Us, Again
by Blackbuster12
Summary: In the future of about seven years later, each member of GoM has had their own life -separately. Their relationship remained as before -it doesn't get better neither worse- but the peace is then broken. Coincidence? What a brave thought. No, no thing such as coincidence in this world. Someone has meant to destroy them. Again. /SPF (self-predicted future) of GoM.


**Prologue**

"They really are the generation of miracle."

The voice surprised, albeit slightly, Amurago, who was sitting on the bench for today's match of Teikou Junior High. They were competing in a small regional league for this autumn, so the temperature was hardly warm regardless of the true objection for the team to participate in the league on the first place—warming up for the winter cup. The regular team, of course, was also playing for today's match, but the coach had guaranteed them that those children of prodigies would only play for a quarter long. The rest of the team would play most of the game, considering the 'miracles' were on their third grade of junior high, and they would no longer play for the school's team next year. Newbies—ignore the word, because it didn't even reach 50% of the real truth—had to play in their places after that, and of course there was no losing for Teikou. The Generation of Miracle or not, winning was a must, thereby an obligation.

It was the third quarter of the game, and Amurago hadn't been played at all. He was stuck sitting on the bench, analysing the game for a period felt like ages. But he couldn't complain—he wouldn't. He was as good as an amateur so he just had to keep shut.

Anyway, for him to hear the sentence of _Generation of Miracles this_ and _Generation of_ _Miracles that _was only natural, for they had the best reputation among the high school basketball players. Even rumours said that the whole country had heard about them, which he thought as a bullshit. If the whole country had heard about the prodigies, basketball would have become the most popular sport game in Japan, which it hadn't. Another rumour claimed their reputation had gone far beyond the national level, into the international—which was the shittiest amongst all. If it was true, the NBA would have invited them. And they hadn't, so it must not be true.

"They really _are_ hard to defeat."

Nah, that surprised him. Well, he meant, the statement itself was right, but it wasn't something to be argued about. Amurago turned his head to look for the source of the voice, but there weren't much people sitting there. Most were the parents of teachers, of supporters from each school. But he didn't see the supporters from their opponent's school, so it must came from one of the adults. But the thing was, Amurago didn't find a thing of why would an adult that didn't have anything to do with basketball speak like that? Wait, or did they?

"Interesting. What badass boys you are all."

Although very faintly, Amurago heard that; the old man in black sat in the most front seat with grey hair. The man looked like a typical business man coming from a big enterprise, so it seemed almost impossible if he was trying to recruit one of the prodigies for a regional basketball team. An on-screen job on TV wouldn't be possible either, regarding the only one who suited the title was only Kise Ryouta and it was definitely impossible to ask the others.

Maybe he was a coach then?

That seemed like the most possible answer Amurago could attempt. Although the man didn't looked like it at all. Shortly, he decided not to give too much thought for it and instead focusing on the game ahead of him. The last quarter would be started in several minutes and there was quite a big possibility he would be played (because he was the only one who hadn't stepped on the field for today's game).

Maybe actually he shouldn't do that. Maybe Amurago shouldn't be too careless about the stranger, because that man was far more than how he looked like. Unfortunately, Amurago didn't know.

That was one of a hell lots of examples how 'not-knowing' could put people in jeopardy.

* * *

**Alright, that's only the beginning, pals! Mind to keep an eye on this one?**

—**Black**


End file.
